


refreshing prince of omega chi

by doramalfoy



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Slow Burn, a hell of a lot of pining, a lot of bonding between friends, broke suga, broships galore, first years are pledges, imagine kuroo and bokuto AND oikawa living in the same house, is daichi the Mr. Darcy to Suga's Lizzie Bennet?, longfic, rich kids problems
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4175799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doramalfoy/pseuds/doramalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Koushi Sugawara owns half of a tiny apartment, where he lives on honey lemon tea, victorian novels & reheated croissants and occasionally - maybe just as a reminder of his english major - writes fiction.</p><p>While Daichi Sawamura - frat playboy extraordinaire - plays the dutiful son to a traditional family and plans to advocate for a living.</p><p>they fall in love (obviously)</p>
            </blockquote>





	refreshing prince of omega chi

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dangergranger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangergranger/gifts).



> thanks for reading, i'm really sorry to say that this is all I have right now (and a bunch of notes and ideas) but if everything works out, a big multichaptered fanfic is going to happen soon enough.
> 
> PLEASE HELP ME TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK (i'm needy)
> 
> a gift to dangergranger because she was the one to convince me that my heart had a place for these precious volley boys. <3

_“Good morning! It’s a great sunny day in Cambridge, Massachusetts! Please remember to submit your entries to the summer poetry contest and drop by the social service fund raising party this friday! The access to the Pilgrim’s Lake is closed due to a radical pledge ritual by your one and only Omega Chi, and this is all for today. Keep listening to the best news report in the Ivy League by choosing 104.9! And, as always, Go Harvard Crows!”_

Koushi’s hands were itching to turn down the radio, or at least to change to a station with actual music, but he was in Noya’s car and - looking on the bright side - this was probably better than public transport… Even though he was strictly forbidden to read if he wanted a lift from his much shorter, attention seeker friend. 

“You can’t really focus on two things at the same time.” was his claim, not entirely true but valid nonetheless.  

So he gave a sad look to Braddon's _Lost for Love_ , quietly sitting in his lap and begging to be read.  

“The lake path is closed.” Noya had a devious smile in his face. “Omega Chi is fucking awesome, right?”  
  
“You know where I stand about the greek system.” Koushi wasn’t capable of being bitter, so he just flashed a neutral smile, not very amused to hear that the shortest route to his favorite cafe was now obstructed… The croissants from the Webber Plaza were good, but didn’t reheat as gracefully.    
  
“You are so very boring, Suga… Somebody has to engage in a rescue mission to keep you safe from yourself.” His tone was playful, as always. “And that somebody is yours truly, the Guardian Deity! How about we go to a party this friday, huh?”    
  
They were almost at the Arts and Sciences building, and as a professional in avoiding Nishinoya’s rants about his inability to socialize, five minutes saying crafty variations of ‘No’ were a piece of cake.  
  
  “I have a paper to read.” First attempt, always blame on the academic calendar.    
  
“Not! I know you’ve read your papers yesterday, you never binge watch _Downtown Abbey_ unless you finish them.” He winked, beaming. “Next.”    
  
“Fine, but I do have work to do… Semiotics books to read, and an essay on whether Mary Ann Evans would or not thrive if she didn’t use a male pseudonym!” This was his best tactic, to bore his friend to death with specifics of Suga’s curriculum.  
  
  “Oh, you can do all of that with your eyes closed, you love that shit.” The car stopped, Suga’s smile shone in pure relief. “Hey, before you go… Think about how happy you’ll make me if you finally decide to hear me and have fun once in your life, please Suga? Pretty please?”  
  
  “The physical atributes of your please are not gonna make me change my mind, Noya… But thanks for the ride.”

 

* * *

 

  Nishinoya was right, he thought while going up the endless staircase that lead to his _Historical Context_ class, things were easy for him because he loved being an english major… Burying himself in reading lists wasn’t a burden, but a comfort in Suga’s very uneventful, _thank you very much_ , life.

  Just like the rest of the guys in campus, he was 21 and in love with multiple women, Jane Austen and the Brontë sisters were the best kind of crush because they never ever let him down. He was content, if not happy, to be exactly who he was.  

And that was where Noya was wrong, there was nothing he needed less than a party.  
  
They were in midterms, which meant that people slept in any place they could lay their heads, everyone seemed tired and puffy eyed and coffee cups were solid gold. He took pride on being an organized, routine freak, because it allowed him to get 8 hours of sleep and still ace his exams.  
  
  Suga was also pleased to notice that his favorite table was vacant.  
  
The perfect spot was central and third row, a place where he was neither too close to the teacher to not being able to pull out something light reading if the class got boring or too far that he would need to raise his voice to ask questions. This was one of his favorite subjects, extremely important for anyone who was aspiring to write or research specific periods in history.    
  
But maybe he liked this class even more because his teacher, Mr. Quincy, understood and praised Koushi's tastes, for he was addicted to love stories. He lost himself over and over on first encounters, star-crossed lovers and the beauty of the marriage plot. Suga liked it historical, contemporary, fantasy and even sci-fi… He read from Pulitzer winners to underground fan fiction to get his daily dose of faith in life, soulmates and on a mystery special someone who was out there, somewhere. 

Suga never really cared about what everyone else had to say about this, he didn’t quite understand other people his age, so it was nothing but a natural reaction that they didn’t seem to get him either. Parties were loud, obnoxious and no one could sit and have a good talk… What’s to like? He didn’t even know how to dance.

  He _tried_.

A scholarship to none other than great, famous, Elle Wood’s Harvard. _Like it’s hard?_ He studied like a madman and then a little bit more, his parents couldn’t be prouder, he couldn’t be happier… So he made his first mistake as an official Alumni in going to a freshmen party.  

And, boy… Did he ever feel so inadequate. Tequila bottles, beer pong and _Abercrombie & Fitch_ clothing, it was all so alien. He didn’t trust anything in the food table to be edible, even more so considering that said food table could be summed up in one very large bag of tortilla chips and a sad guacamole bowl. Music sucked and a bunch of stupid guys with crimson greek letters in their shirts started to throw anyone who looked out of place and young enough to be a freshman in the pool.

To sum up the experience, he went home absolutely soaked and with an intense dislike to college parties.

Reality came back in the form of a loud snore from the guy sitting in his left, only seconds before the good soul of the day whispered “He’s coming” to announce that Professor Arthur Quincy was in the end of the hallway. Teachers didn’t usually enjoy entering a class where half of the students seemed to be fast asleep, so this kind of comradery was helpful in order to avoid a reprimand this early in the day.  

While most of the people were nudged by friends or anyone close, snore-guy was still in the land of dreams. Suga knew that he should try to wake him up, but he realized that he was a little bit scared. Snore-guy was huge, resting his brown hair - knotted in a messy bun - in an arm so muscular that he could squash the blonde like a bug if he wanted.    
  
“Hello there…” He took a deep breath and poked his head with an outstretched arm. “Mr. Quincy is here.”  

No sign of life.

  “Hey, come on.” Suga kept prodding, his fear of the guy diminishing with the adrenaline of knowing that the teacher could come into the room any minute now.

  When he started shaking the stranger’s arms while repeatedly begging for him to wake up was when it happened, a loud, terrifying shriek that made everyone in the class turn to look at man-bun.

  “DON’T FEED THEM AFTER MIDNIGHT!” He screamed, looking at Koushi with his eyes wide open, clearly still reacting to something he was dreaming with. He looked puzzled at first, then positively mortified when he turned his head and all the other students burst into laughter.

  “Sorry.” His voice was shaking, unbecoming when you thought about his size.   

“It’s ok.” Suga sounded a little high pitched, managing to smile.     
  
“Uhm… I really am sorry.”     
  
“It’s fine, I’m afraid of gremlins too.”  
  
  Instead of denying or blushing, he just looked relieved to be able to talk about gremlins, not hiding his dismay. “Yeah, they’re the worst.”  
  
They are forced to stop the conversation when Mr. Quincy finally arrives to the classroom with his heavy caramel briefcase. Displaying the eccentricity allowed only to the brilliant minded, the first thing he does is grab a piece of chalk and write the subject of the day on the board.   Class runs smoothly, and Suga even forgets the book he brought, being lost in the theme (post-war creative fiction and nonfiction) and eager to write down the tips to set a reliable background to a story whether his protagonist was French or Russian.

In the end, he assembles his notes into a neat pile and looks to man-bun/snore guy in the nearest table, he looks totally lost and - much to suga’s surprise - there’s not even a pen in his desk. MBSG catches his surprised stare and shrugs.  

“I couldn’t find a pen in my dorm” He says, matter-of-factly. “It’s always such a mess.”

Suga decides that he likes this guy, because though he looks a bit like a thug, and its probably 5 years older than him, there’s not anything menacing in his puppy maroon eyes and he does come across like someone who needs a little bit of help.  

“You can borrow my notes.” Suga offers, and then wonders if he sounded patronizing, adding “If you want to, of course.” for the sake of not being such a nerd goody-two-shoes (which he kind of is anyway)

“Wow, thanks dude!” MBSG sounds beyond relieved. “I’m Asahi, by the way.”

  “Koushi Sugawara.” He replies with a lukewarm smile, handing the pile of notes. “I’ll probably need them next week, but i suppose it’s enough time to copy or something.”  

“Yeah, I owe you big time… I thought I was going to fail this class, and I need the credits.”

“Don’t mention it, see you around!”

 

* * *

 

It is not until much later when Koushi finally catches the city bus, yawning while he looks for a vacant seat, he does not mind using the public transport… If he did afford a car, it would rob him some nice 20 minutes when peaceful reading is possible. The tiny apartment he shared with Noya was not too far from their respective buildings and he found the route rather gloomy and inspirational.

Sometimes, when he gets really tired and is not in the mood for whichever book he brought (hardly happens) he also takes those minutes to think about the subject for his thesis, he still has one year and a half to get this straight, but Suga is constantly anxious about pinpointing a theme classical enough to embrace his literature interests that’s also unique and of actually good taste.  

The optimistic thought that he’ll probably end up with something nice soothes Suga into a peaceful nap, waking up startled to realize that he almost missed his stop, the sky is already dark outside and he’s too mentally exhausted to walk. _Creative Writing_ , his afternoon subject, always left him tired to the bone with a strong desire to never touch a pen again. He’s happy to get out of the bus right into the entrance of the building.

  “Good evening, Mr. Sugawara.” Says the doorman, being greeted back with Suga’s trademark soft smile.

Even though their two-bedroom is the most minuscule, low rent apartment ever, Suga loves it with all his heart. It’s not like he had that many furniture to fill it anyway, his parents are lower middle class and devoted to a tiny bookshop (in which suga worked from 14 to 19 y.o.) back in Evansville, Indiana. Their profit is steady and they do send a nice amount of money to their only son, but life it’s expensive here… So he doesn’t really have much.

What he brought from home was mostly sweaters hand-knit by his gram, a hardcover collection on literature classics and a very worn out notebook. Apart from that, he and Noya bought the ultimate necessary at IKEA and made it work with the bare minimum for a couple of months, until they managed to save to make it look like it was theirs.  
  
The thing about the Nishinoyas was that they had money, after all, they payed for Noya's tuition at Harvard's Med School (a scary fee) but they didn't believe that he should have it easy because of their financial condition, so - in a few words - he was as fucked up as Suga when it came to living alone. 

The day they met started with two perfect strangers vacuuming and cleaning the place they would share for at least three years, and ended up with homies obsessing over whether they would watch _Baywatch_ or Buffy _The Vampire Slayer_ ’s reruns.  

Suga was dramatic, Noya was dynamic.*

They found what they lacked in each other, and life was so much easier when you had someone to laugh at your quirks and take care of you. Noya understood that Suga was part of the Jane Austen cult, cared too much for others and needed some wake up call every now and then… And Suga tended to him in his own selfless, considerate way, gentle reminders that he was there and impressive demonstrations of endurance to his never stoping blabbermouth.

He absent mindedly opens the door, finding that Noya forgot to turn off the lights _and_ the heater, an ever present feature of daily lives with Yuu Nishinoya. Suga is resigned and tired, so he doesn’t even let his mind work around what he’s gonna do about it, if there’s really anything he can do. The blonde drops his satchel in the wooden table and sighs, less than three steps and he’s in the kitchen, boiling water for his tea and checking if there’s any frozen meal left.  

 _Life can be uneventful, but great._ He thinks, closing the fridge’s door to pick yesterday’s thai food leftovers.

 _And, guess what? Today I talked to stranger, look? Go social Suga_.

 

* * *

 

Saying that Asahi Azumane’s room is a mess could be listed as the understatement of the century.  

If you’re not Omega Chi, you probably wouldn't understand how strange it is that such an orderly and calm person can live among so many discarded pizza boxes and beer cans. But the thing is, Asahi is hardly in his room… He likes to hang around the fraternity study, usually quiet, nice and much more fitting to his taciturn demeanor.  

So _why_ , must we all ask… Why is his room a figment of chaos?  

For starters, there’s a reason why he hardly introduce himself using his full name, with his father being Harvard’s president and his late mom nothing but an _Upper East Side_ Whitney. People already seemed to conjecture a myriad of misconceptions about him without this - _oh look he’s old money!_ \- stuff. The thing is, he was indeed dirty rich, but he didn’t really care… He was an History Major, for god’s sake, there was nothing _high society_ about him.

  But his video games were always top of the line, and that caused quite a stir in a house with at least thirty male college students.

It all began - and it wasn’t a big surprise - with Tooru Oikawa dropping a hint that he had received _GTA V_ two weeks prior to the official launch (courtesy of his loving father, who believed that featured games were the best way to say ‘ _I still remember your existence, son_.’) and then his room became public property.  

The good thing was that he didn’t have a lot of close friends, and most of the guys at Omega Chi made him to be much scarier than he actually was… A few knew Asahi's true self, a gentle giant with a heart of glass. They generally avoided his room while he was there, and calmly (or as calmly as overexcited _FIFA-addicted_ frat guys can be) left and apologized for the mess if he arrived in the middle of a match.  

It usually didn’t bother him…

Not when he could find his stuff before he went to his only elective class, that gave an ominous amount of credits (much needed in order to graduate).

Not when they were partying with pledges until 4AM in the next room and prevented him from having any sleep, leading to the sad Gremlin-episode.

He was so lucky that this guy, Koushi Sugawara, was there… Being nice and holding back his laughter to calm him down, not to mention his miraculous, easy-to-follow notes. He couldn’t wait to tell Daichi that he made a new friend. He couldn’t wait for Daichi to come back from his extended weekend with his parents in the Hamptons, nothing went wrong when Daichi Sawamura was at Omega Chi.  
  
A fraternity house without its president was much like a team lacking a captain.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Jewel5 TLAT's reference, I just love it so much.
> 
> thanks for reading, please remember that comments are solid gold. <3
> 
> I probably made some mistakes, and if you find any, I'll beg you to let me know so I can try to correct them all.


End file.
